Shifting
by achillespelides
Summary: Scott is shifting. Stiles is panicking. Allison comes in. (really bad title but basically a fic where Allison finds out way earlier that Scott's a werewolf after walking in as he shifts.) requested by emelie0204


prompt request from emelie0204

* * *

Scott is shifting.

Stiles is panicking.

"Okay, so like what if . . . oh, god, is your mom home?" Stiles mumbles, pacing the room as Scott stands next to the window, his knuckles white as he grips the sill for leverage.

"Yes," Scott growls, his voice low and rough and _really_ sounding wolf-like. Stiles shudders a little bit.

"Okay so what do we do? Can we call Derek?" Stiles asks, looking at his friend fighting off the change. Scott has only been a werewolf for a couple of weeks now, and it's all still pretty new to them. Derek's been helpful, but also aggressive, so Stiles isn't eager to get in touch with the older wolf. But he doesn't know what else to do. He can't let Scott shift inside his house - _when his mom's home -_ but he also can't just let Scott go outside. He could hurt somebody. Or worse.

Stiles didn't want to think about it.

"Stiles, I can't keep fighting it," Scott whispers as hair starts to rise on his skin. The transformation should only take seconds, but Scott's been working hard for the past minute to hold it off. Stiles swallows hard and pulls out his phone.

"Okay, I'm calling Derek, just hold on for a few more-"

The phone falls out of his hand as Scott's bedroom door opens. Allison is standing in the doorway, textbooks in her arms and a cheery grin on her face. She looks at Stiles, confused for a moment, before her eyes settle on Scott.

"Shit," Stiles whispers.

Scott's still facing the window, so his back is to Allison and Stiles, but Stiles knows Scott can sense Allison's presence. He doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement, though. Instead, he just braces himself against the window, lowers his head, and fights off the change.

"Oh my god," Allison gasps. Stiles looks at the expression on her face, but he can't quite place it. She doesn't necessarily look scared (after all, her family is famous for being very skilled werewolf hunters) but she doesn't look too calm, either. She's surprised; that much Stiles is sure of. And maybe hurt.

Stiles knows this is the worst way possible for Allison to find out her boyfriend's a werewolf, but no time now to worry about her feelings.

"Okay, uh, before you say anything-" Stiles says, looking between the two frantically.

Scott howls, the transformation finally completing itself, and rushes around to face his two completely human friends. His eyes are bright with fury, his claws extended.

Allison doesn't hesitate. Within seconds, she's rushing towards Scott with something in her hand. Scott hurls towards her, his instincts taking over, but she ducks, outsmarting him. She slides under him and jabs whatever she's holding into his leg. Scott roars in pain before falling over, desperately grabbing at the bed. He lands with half of his body on the edge of his bed and the other half dragging on the floor.

And he's unconscious.

"Nice," Stiles murmurs in appreciation. He should have known Allison always carries some sort of werewolf hunting supplies with her, but he didn't suspect she would bring any to a casual study session with her boyfriend.

Luckily, Stiles was wrong.

Allison lets out a long breath before standing up. She brushes her hands off before facing Stiles, an angry but somewhat triumphant expression her face. Stiles just shrugs awkwardly.

"He'll only be out for an hour or so. Only so much tranquilizer can fit in a fake lipstick," she sighs, climbing onto the bed. She studies Scott's fallen form but doesn't say anything. Stiles takes this as an invitation to sit down beside her, grabbing his phone off the floor first.

He sends a quick text to Derek and then finally looks at her.

"So . . ."

"So." Allison doesn't show a hint of emotion. Stiles reaches out as if to grab her hand but then thinks better of it. He wants to comfort her, but doesn't know how. This isn't exactly a common situation.

"Look, he was going to tell you, I'm sure, but with your fami-"

"He knows?" she whispers, her eyes shooting towards him.

He fights back a laugh. "Yeah, of course he knows. Your dad is out to get him; it's hard to miss."

Allison purses her lips, her eyes flicking briefly to Scott's fallen body, before meeting Stiles' eyes again. "I didn't know. I didn't . . "

"Yeah."

The two are silent for a moment. After a while, Derek comes over. He climbs through the window, since Melissa is home, and doesn't even make eye contact with Stiles or Allison. He just casually lifts Scott up as if he weighs nothing and jimmies him through the window and out to his car. Stiles doesn't know what he'll do with him - probably chain him up or train him or something - but he's glad he doesn't have to worry about his friend anymore.

Once Derek's gone, Allison stands up to go.

"Wait, Allison, don't-"

"Stiles, I don't want to do this right now."

"He didn't mean to hurt you."

Allison looks at him quizzically, surprised by that comment. "He didn't hurt me," she whispers, her voice soft and strained. "But I almost hurt him."

Stiles' eyes go wide, surprised. He had not considered this-that Allison's guilt for hunting werewolves would overpower her betray of finding out Scott is one of those wolves.

"He doesn't care," Stiles says. "He knows it's not your fault. It's your dad, and it's just the way things are. He didn't want to tell you because he didn't want to ruin what you two have. He cares about you, Allison. He really, really cares."

Allison shifts her weight, shifting her gaze down in an attempt not to cry. "I know," she nods. "I care about him, too. I just wish . . I wish this wasn't an issue," she says, gesturing to the window.

"You'll figure it out," Stiles reassures her. "Stop by tomorrow? I'll talk to him and make sure he's okay."

"Okay," Allison nods, opening the door. "Stiles?" she asks, twisting her head around. Stiles raises an eyebrow in response. Well, attempts to raise an eyebrow. His face just kind of scrunches up in a weird way, but Allison gets the point. "How long has he . . . you know?"

"Only a few weeks. He was bitten just before school started."

Allison nods, the fact seeming to calm her down. "Thanks," she smiles before walking out the door.

Stiles flops back on the bed, his mind racing, before heading out to his jeep to drive to Derek's.


End file.
